100 Years of Not-Quite Solitude
by NatesMama
Summary: My entry for the latest Bonesology hiatus challenge. 100 microfics with prompts from my Twitter friends.
1. Hide

_**A/N: Howdy everyone! I am attempting another fic challenge from Bonesology…this time we were given two sets of 100 words and challenged to write a microfic 300 words or less (not counting author's notes) for each word on the list of our choosing. I will be asking for prompts for each word on Twitter, if anyone is interested in helping me out. If you don't already follow me, my handle is NatesMama1128. This first chapter is courtesy of my very good friend Frankie.**_

 _ **Wish me luck. Maybe I'll actually finish this one.**_

* * *

Hide

Brennan smothered a laugh as she entered the kitchen with little Henry, the sight of her husband's behind sticking out from the fridge bringing out an uncharacteristic giggle.

She sat the baby in his high chair before confronting Booth. "What are you doing?"

Booth, surprised at the sudden interruption to his search, jerked up, banging his head on the top of the appliance. "Ow! Bones!" He turned and scowled at his wife's laughter, slamming the door shut. "It's not funny, that hurt like hell!"

"I wasn't attempting to surprise you, Booth. It was an accident!" She moved to kiss him. "It is not my fault that you didn't hear me. Some sniper senses you've got." She mumbled against his lips.

Sighing, Booth reached behind her to tickle his son's chin. "I was only looking for that last slice of apple pie from dinner. It's gone!"

Brennan began preparing breakfast for the baby, her back to Booth. "I was sure you ate more than your share of the pie. You couldn't find it?"

"Yeah." He sighed again and grabbed a box of Frosted Flakes. "It's not a big deal. I'll just have some cereal and eat while I watch the news. But damn, that pie was good." Brennan suppressed a smile as she watched him leave the kitchen.

When she was sure he was otherwise occupied, Brennan ran to the pantry and returned with a covered pie pan. Pulling back the foil, she inhaled the delicious aroma of apples, cinnamon and nutmeg while simultaneously reaching for a fork.

Settling at the table next to Henry, Brennan took a bite of the hidden treat and sighed deeply as her son seemed to give her a reproachful look he could not possibly pull off at 7 months of age.

"Don't tell your father."

* * *

 _ **PS. 300 words on the nose! That will *never* happen again.**_


	2. Amnesia

Amnesia

"Brennan, how's Booth?" Angela anxiously hugged her friend as soon as she set foot into the hospital's private waiting room. "Cam said he hit his head and lost consciousness."

Returning her friend's embrace, Brennan nodded against Angela's shoulder. "It was only a temporary loss of awareness, but he was completely out for long enough that we thought it prudent to have him checked out, considering his history."

Hodgins, who had come in with his wife, wrapped his arms around both women. "Booth's tough. He'll be fine."

"Yes." Brennan's words sounded sure, but her pale face told a different story. "Doctor Hodgins, I need to call Max and have him pick up Christine from day care. Would you mind going in to keep Booth company?"

"Sure, Doctor B." He nodded at Angela and headed down the hallway under Brennan's direction, stopping at Booth's room to knock. A muffled voice welcomed him, so he opened the door.

Seeing his visitor, Booth grinned. "Hey Hodgins. Did Bones get ahold of Max?"

Settling in the chair next to the bed that had obviously been recently vacated by Booth's wife, Hodgins nodded. "She was just calling him when I came back."

"Good. For a minute, I was going to have her call Sweets, but…you know."

Hodgins nodded sadly. "Yeah."

Booth grinned. "I mean, he's got so much going on, with Daisy being pregnant and all. I don't want to burden him."

Booth occupied himself with his TV remote, not noticing the look of utter shock his friend was giving him. "Uh…Booth?"

"Yeah?" Booth glanced at Hodgins before turning back to the news report he'd found.

"About Sweets…" Hodgins stopped, unsure how to begin.

Booth heard the hesitation in Hodgins' voice and gave him his full attention. "Hey. What's going on, Hodgins?"

The scientist stood and started to make his way out of the room. "Oh, nothing. I need to get going, that's all. I'll make sure Doctor Brennan is on her way back. Feel better, Booth!" And with that, he was gone.

Booth shook his head and turned back to the news. "Bug boy has some serious issues."

* * *

 _ **A/N: Hat tip to FaithInBones on Twitter for the idea. Also…this story line is continued in her story 'Out of Mind', which you can find here under her profile so go give it a read and review!**_


	3. Funeral

Funeral

"Mommy, what's the matter?" Christine walked into Brennan's office ahead of her father, and caught her mother staring sadly into space and wiping her eyes.

Brennan quickly tried to recover, but knew she was busted. "Oh, Christine. I thought you and Daddy were at the park."

Booth, having also seen his wife's tears, quickly moved to her side. "What is it, Bones? Are you in labor?" He asked, placing his large hand on her full-term pregnant belly.

"No, no…this baby is determined to take his time coming." She sniffed and gestured her daughter over to her side. "I am sad because my iguana passed away this morning."

Christine wrinkled her nose in confusion. "Pass-ed away?"

Booth shook his head and kissed Brennan on the temple. "Mommy's iguana died, honey."

"Oh." The girl took a moment to digest what her father said. "So like Pops?"

Booth nodded sadly. "Yeah, like your Pops."

Christine gave her mother a heartfelt hug. "When is the funereal?"

Smiling for the first time since she had found her beloved pet in his aquarium that morning, Brennan corrected her child. "Funeral, Christine. And I had not planned on anything as elaborate as a burial rite. I was simply going to bury him in the backyard with your goldfish."

"But he needs a funeral!" Christine cried. "Daddy said that they make you feel better. And I want you to feel better, Mommy."

Brennan pulled her daughter into a tight embrace and looked up at her husband's face while Booth gave a sympathetic smile directed back at her. "Thank you, Christine. That is very kind." She kissed the girl's forehead and sighed. "This is one of the numerous times that I am glad you have your father's heart."

Booth leaned down and kissed Brennan on the lips, then clapped his hands to get his girls moving. "Okay, ladies. Let's go get into our nicest clothes and say goodbye to Mister Iguana."

* * *

 _ **A/N: Just a quick note for the guest who asked about Brennan eating pie. She has been eating pie since becoming pregnant with Christine, and there have been scenes since then where she continued to indulge.**_

 _ **Also, thanks to Twitter friend mypdxkitchen for the prompt for this word.**_


	4. The End

The End

"And they lived happily ever after." Booth closed the book of fairy tales and set it carefully on the box that doubled as a nightstand next to his daughter's bed. Christine slept on as he crept out of her room and softly shut the door.

As he headed down the hallway, he glanced at the other boxes lining the walls, each neatly labeled with the name of the room's contents they contained. The tangible sum of their life together, packed away and ready for the movers to start the trip to their new home tomorrow morning. With a satisfied sigh, Booth headed for the kitchen to grab a snack before the Phillies' game started.

When he entered the living room, popcorn and a beer in hand, he found Brennan resting on the sofa with her feet on yet another box, her notepad with their moving details sitting next to her, and a bowl of pineapple perched precariously on her pregnant belly. Booth moved the notebook to the floor and sat next to her, snatching a piece of sweet fruit from the fork that she was trying to get to her mouth.

"Booth!" Brennan laughed, smacking him hard on the shoulder before heading back into her bowl for another piece.

Booth grinned at his wife as he absently rubbed his shoulder (The woman really could hit pretty damn hard.) and again thought about how unbelievably lucky he was. Of course, being Booth, he had to ask, just one more time.

"Bones…I won't ask again, but…are you sure that-"

"Booth." Her look was a combination of exasperation and adoration. "Don't you remember what you said when I was pregnant with Christine? We can have any life we want." She cupped his cheek and wiped a drop of pineapple from the corner of his mouth. "Right?"

"Right. New memories, new life." Booth leaned down and kissed Brennan, cupping the back of her head lovingly and then pulling back with s soft smile. "And they lived happily ever after."

Brennan rested her head on her husband's shoulder. "The end."

* * *

 _ **A/N: This prompt, in a roundabout way, came from Frankie. Also, if you missed it, faithinbones has completed a sequel to my chapter 2 'Amnesia' called 'Out of Mind'. Definitely go check it out.**_


	5. Lament

Lament

Brennan stood at the end of the hallway listening to Booth tell Christine a story before bedtime, a small, wistful smile on her face. She could tell by the volume and cadence of his voice that their daughter had fallen asleep mid-book, but Booth being Booth, he wanted to finish the story he had promised the little girl.

She stepped away from her semi-hiding place before her husband came out and caught her, moving to settle on the sofa, lost in thought.

It occurred to her that as little as five years ago, this life she was living was something of an anomaly to her. Between her refusal of Booth's offer on the steps, their mutual trips away from DC and the arrival of Hannah after they returned home, Brennan never expected to find herself happily married with a child, and one more on the way. And that she was sharing this life with Booth only made the idea more unbelievable. During that year where they had seemed so disconnected from each other, she couldn't have imagined how everything would all work out for the best, and that the death of her favorite intern was the push they apparently needed made it even more surreal to Brennan. She lamented the lost time they had wasted, but trusted in Booth's belief that everything happens when it is supposed to.

Sighing to herself, Brennan listened for and finally heard the tell-tale sounds of Booth heading for their bedroom to get out of his work clothes and into something more comfortable. The thought of him undressing a few scant feet away made her smile naughtily, even if she was too exhausted to do anything about it.

A few minutes later, Booth made his way into the kitchen, smiling at Brennan as he threw a bag of organic popcorn in the microwave and grabbed them both drinks. After the bell dinged on the popcorn, he transferred the bright kernels into a bowl and headed into the living room to sit next to his wife.

"Snack?" He asked proffering the bowl.

Brennan shook her head and slid closer, curling herself into Booth's side as close as she could. "No, thank you. I have everything I need."

* * *

 _ **A/N: Thanks to Rynogeny for the look over.**_


	6. Crucify

Crucify

Booth released a sigh and sat back in his office chair for the first time in over three months, the entire bullpen visible from his leaned-back position. From a layman's view, the agents all looked focused and hard at work, but their immediate supervisor knew the truth.

They pretended to work while they snuck looks at their boss, more than a few of them still suspicious after his return from jail. Booth had been exonerated, and the big brass at the FBI had issued a public apology for what their agent and his family had been subjected to by the conspiracy that had infected the Bureau. They'd tried to crucify him on specious evidence and they knew it and to their credit, they had owned it. But some still wondered. And funnily enough, Booth understood. He would probably feel the same way.

That didn't mean it didn't hurt more than a little, though.

Even Charlie Burns…devoted, loyal Charlie, who had gained his current position as second in command of Cyber Crimes due to his association with Booth and his team at the Jeffersonian, looked at him askance when the elder agent passed him in the halls of the Hoover. Again, Booth could see his point.

He'd worked with most of these people for more than eighteen years, yet Booth received more support and dedication from the team at the Jeffersonian, and they had only been his team for a little more than half the time he'd been an agent. The squints, who at one time had been subject to daily derision from Booth, had turned out to be the only people in his life he could truly count on. They had believed in him, stuck by him, and in the end they had saved him. So despite the discomfort he was going to feel in his own workplace for the foreseeable future, if he had to choose between another career or what he had established between the Jeffersonian and the FBI, the decision would be as easy as breathing.

Brennan and her team, _their team_ , were his family. And he wouldn't have it any other way.


	7. Deaf

Deaf

Booth came into the living room with a beer and a bag of chips, ready to watch the Flyers clinch the Stanley Cup with a sweep of the Colorado Avalanche when he realized that his prime television-watching seat was already occupied by his five year old daughter.

Christine was sitting on her knees, attention focused squarely on the big screen over the fireplace. As Booth watched, the girl pointed to herself, then crossed her arms across her chest with her hands fisted, and finished her movement by pointing at her bunny sitting on the coffee table. She repeated the action a few times before Booth caught up to what she was doing and moved to join her on the sofa.

"Hey Christine." He ruffled her hair a bit as he sat next to her and looked to the TV. "What are you watching?"

She smiled and pointed at the instructional video her mother had started for her. "I am learning sign language, Daddy. Mommy bought me a disc so I can learn to talk to Brady at school."

Booth smiled, a warm feeling of pride filling his chest as he remembered that Brady was Christine's new classmate, who happened to be deaf. "That's really kind of you, Chrissy." He kissed her cheek. "How's it going so far?"

"I love it!" His little girl jumped up and down on the sofa enthusiastically. "It's fun to talk with your hands!"

"Show me what you've learned so far." Booth sat back as Christine stood in front of him and slowly but accurately showed how she had learned the entire ASL alphabet. After a few more basic signs, she grinned and moved closer to Booth. "I have one more I know, Daddy."

He waved his hand in her direction. "Go right ahead, kiddo. Let's see what you've got."

Christine repeated the signs she had been practicing when Booth first walked into the room, finishing with a new one, her thumb resting against her forehead with her hand spread open.

"That's great, sweetheart. But what does it mean?" Booth's daughter climbed up on her father's lap and hugged him tightly.

"It means, 'I love you, Daddy.'"


	8. Cliff

Cliff

Michael Vincent looked over his shoulder quickly, making sure his parents weren't in the vicinity, before pulling a small black and yellow book from under his school binder. He scanned the first few pages, hiding the contraband before beginning to write. He felt slightly guilty, as if he were cheating but the large (boring) novel sitting on his windowsill spurred him on, and he continued his homework without hesitation.

Hours later, Michael stood in front of his mother as she read his book report. He shifted his weight from one foot to another, nervous about her reaction to his work. Angela, for her part, hid the smile she wanted to give her son. She'd forgotten about the tricks and workarounds kids could come up with to avoid doing their homework, but Michael Vincent's book report brought it all back…to her endless amusement.

Putting the boy out of his misery, Angela handed the paper back to him with a faux disappointed frown. "Michael Vincent. Do you know the point of your teacher assigning you this book report?"

He nodded. "So that we would read the book and tell her about it." The blush that graced his cheeks was the final confirmation his mother needed.

" _To Kill a Mockingbird_ is a great American novel. It explores civil rights and racism in the segregated Southern United States of the 1930s. It's important for you to learn about, so that those mistakes are not repeated." She stood and put her hand on his shoulder. "Now, go and actually read the book."

Defeated, Michael nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

Watching her son ascend the stairs to his room, Angela shook her head. She felt like a bit of a hypocrite for admonishing Michael for doing something she herself had done repeatedly, but she imagined that this was one of those parental secrets she would never reveal to her child…or his genius father.

Besides…Hodgins would never let her hear the end of it.


	9. Float

Float

Booth could feel himself sliding in and out of consciousness, Brennan's voice pulling him back and forth like a ship floating…tossed on the wild waves of the sea. Instinctively, he knew he'd some kind of surgical procedure, but he couldn't remember the specifics and at the moment he didn't care.

All he could focus on was the soft hum of the machines around him and his wife's voice, quietly reading something aloud. From what his struggling ears could make out, it was a story of some kind. The characters seemed familiar, but then again not so much. The cadence of her words, in her husky, breathy voice were enough to lull him again, back to that place where everything was perfect and nothing hurt.

Three days later, mumbling to himself and fighting the crust on his lids that has accumulated from misuse, Booth opened his eyes. The first thing to come into focus was a pair of beautiful blue eyes. He blinked, and tried again. Finally, he could see that it was Brennan, hovering over him, brow furrowed with worry.

"Booth…"

"Bones…what…" He licked his dry lips as Brennan reached for his water cup. She slipped a thin ice chip into his mouth and wiped the slight moisture from his bottom lip. "What happened?"

Brennan smiled and took his hand, rubbing his knuckles with her thumb. "You were apprehending a suspect and he surprised you with a baseball bat. He hit you on the back of the head, causing a hematoma on your brain. They were able to stop the bleeding in surgery and you should recover completely. But you've been asleep for almost three days."

"Again?" Booth reached up and touched the bandage that was wrapped around his head. "Yeah. It's coming back now. That jackass had someone else with him and they got the drop on me." He frowned. "Did we bring him in?"

Brennan nodded as she adjusted her position to move closer. "Yes. Aubrey was able to take them both down, they didn't know you had backup."

"Good." He smiled. "I have to say, though, this time waking up is so much better than the last."

Something dark crossed Brennan's face before she could cover it, and Booth cringed inwardly at his own insensitivity. "I'm sorry, Bones. That was-"

"No." She stopped him. "You're right. " Swallowing reflexively, she continued. "Now, I don't have to run off to avoid my feelings for you so, realistically, this situation is much better than the last time we found ourselves here."

"Better?" Booth wrapped his hand around her wrist and pulled her down onto the bed with him. She reciprocated by curling up against his side, one arm draped across his torso tightly. "Bones, this is more than just 'better'."

His familiar and soothing scent invading her senses, Brennan closed her eyes and settled in. "I concur."

* * *

 _ **A/N: I had this finished to post yesterday, but my cable and internet were out due to bad weather. So, technically, I didn't miss a day. :)**_


	10. Want

Want

"I wish you weren't leaving, Sweetie."

"Angela, I told you. I have to go. I just can't…"

"I know. Doesn't mean I have to like it."

"It's just too hard. He's always there, Ang."

"I get it. I do. I always thought, you know, that if anyone could make things work, it would be you and Booth."

"We tried."

"I know. I know you did. Maybe some time and space will make things better. Then you can-"

"No, Angela. Right now, it pains me to say it, but we hate each other. And I don't see that changing."

"Damn him, sometimes I really just want to smack the shit out of him."

"It's not his fault entirely, really. I agreed to try a relationship when I knew I wasn't ready. I should have said no that night, but I just wanted him so badly and…"

"Oh, Bren. Don't cry. Please."

"I'm sorry. It seems all I've done lately is cry."

"I know."

"This is what I need to do to keep my sanity, Angela. Nothing else has worked. Even severing the partnership…I still see him everywhere. And when I do, we ignore each other. It's horrible."

"Well, he is partly to blame, Bren. He kept badgering you about marriage and he knew going in how you felt about it. His expectations…"

"Were exactly as they had always been. He never hid that from me. But we were both naïve to think we were at all ready to be together. Even after five years of friendship, it just…needed something else. I don't know. I'm tired of feeling so miserable and being so disconnected from everything. I'm just plain exhausted, Angela. I want to go someplace where I don't have to see or hear or even think of the name Seeley Booth."

"Okay, okay…I get it. Hey, there's your boarding call. Give me a hug, sweetie."

"Thank you, Angela. For everything."

"Always, Bren. Love you."

"I love you as well. And…if you do see Booth, tell him…tell him that I'm sorry and that I…"

"I'll tell him. Have a good flight. Take care of yourself, Bren."

"I will. I always do."

* * *

 _ **A/N: Just a musing as to what may have happened if they had gotten together at the end of Parts in the Sum of the Whole. Sorry. ;) Also, this word is out of order, but I don't think anyone cares all that much.**_


	11. Engage

Engage

"I told you, Sweets, I am not going to sit through another Star Trek marathon. That's your thing, not mine."

Sweets rolled his eyes at his friend as Booth threw himself on the sofa in a huff. "Come on, Booth. It's just _The Voyage Home_ and then _Wrath of Khan_. They're the best of the Star Trek movies in my opinion."

Digging in his metaphorical heels, Booth shook his head. "Nope. After you made me watch that awful _Insurrection_ , I refuse to do it again."

"But _Insurrection_ is arguably the worst of the movie series! You can't judge them all by that." Sweets joined Booth on the sofa and sighed. "Come on. We'll just watch _First Contact_ , if you want. That's the absolute best of the TNG movies and definitely in the top 5 of Star Trek movies, period. I think you'll really love it."

Resigned to either being subjected to yet another afternoon of sci fi he didn't enjoy or hurting his friend's feelings, Booth took the path of least resistance. Plus, the puppy dog eyes the kid was working were killing him.

"Alright." He ignored Sweets' silent cheer as he continued. "But I have some ground rules."

"Anything!"

Booth held up his hand and began to tick off his requirements. "One: Absolutely no use of the words 'mega', 'totally' or 'bitchin'." He glared at Sweets. "I mean, really? No one uses 'bitchin' anymore except old surf hippies."

"Agreed. What else?"

"Two: If you call me 'Captain' I will shoot you."

"Does that threat even work anymore? You're always saying-" Sweets stopped suddenly when Booth gave him a look that the younger man swore went straight between his eyes and through his skull. "Um, yeah. Okay. No 'Captain'."

Booth grinned inwardly, happy his particular brand of intimidation was still solid. With that thought in mind, he delivered his final requirement. "And lastly, when the movie is over, there will be no Star Trek in this house for one year."

"But-"

"Ah!" Booth cut the protest off with a slashing motion. "365 days, Sweets. Or no deal."

Pouting, Sweets sat back against the sofa and pointed the remote at the television. "Fine. One year."

"Great." Booth held the popcorn bowl out to his friend. "Them we're agreed. Start the movie and have a snack, Sweets."

With a quiet click, the movie popped up on the screen.

"Engage."

"Sweets!"

"Sorry."


	12. Blizzard

Blizzard

Brennan moved the bedroom curtain aside and watched in wonder as the delicate snowflakes fell on the grass, covering the blades with a cold, white blanket. With a sigh, she let the gauzy fabric slide back to hide the windowpane and turned to watch her husband sleep, her thoughts going back to another time, another place, and another blizzard.

Booth had been so angry that day. Still. She knew, now, that he wasn't mad at her and he took great pains to assure her in that respect, but his violent reaction to Sweets' mention of Hannah had almost scared her. She hadn't been scared of Booth, or that he would turn physical towards her, because she knew who he was and that would never happen. But his misery at being turned down by another woman did frighten her.

Their mutual wishes, and the ceremonial burning of those wishes, soothed her a bit and let her see a little hope for the future, but sometimes she wondered how things would have worked out between them if that blizzard had never happened.

Shaking her head at her irrational musings, Brennan climbed back into their bed and snuggled up next to Booth's sleep-warmed body. She slid one hand down his toned stomach to gently wrap her fingers around his morning erection, smiling as he almost immediately tensed and then woke.

"Mmmm…Bones?" His rough voice was both soothing and arousing.

"Of course it's me." She slid under the blankets, pulling herself to lie on top of him. "Who did you expect?"

Booth's brain had already short-circuited with the knowledge that his wife was slowly kissing her way down his naked body to his rapidly-hardening dick, so his answer was fumbled and lost. "Oh…uh…you, um…I was expecting…oh God, baby…"

Swirling her tongue just the way she knew he liked, Brennan smiled around Booth's cock. This blizzard was turning out much better than the last.


	13. Stoic

Stoic

Brennan reached out and held Booth's trembling hand, illogically trying to send all her love and support through their entwined digits. His head was bowed, eyes closed and lips moving in a prayer only he and his Maker could hear.

Parker moved to stand next to his father, wrapping one arm around his waist and leaning in close with a sigh. "I wish I could have gotten to know Grandma better."

Booth nodded and squeezed his son tighter. "So do I, Parker. But at least we became closer these last few years and that's really what matters."

Brennan interrupted them, pointing to the front of the church. "Booth, Parker…they're assembling the pallbearers."

"Thanks, Bones." Booth leaned over and kissed her quickly, before stoically leading his son to the casket in the middle of the aisle. The two Booth boys each took their places on either side, between Marianne's stepson, friends and distant relatives, all of whom grabbed their share of the heavy arms that acted as handles and lifted as one. They filed solemnly out of the sanctuary as Marianne's husband, Reggie and his daughter led the processional that followed the casket to the waiting hearse outside.

Once his mother was safely ensconced in the vehicle that would bring her to her final resting place, Booth turned and offered his stepfather a heartfelt hug, and then carefully made his apologies as he explained that his heavily-pregnant wife was exhausted and they were simply going to head home. Understanding, Reggie shook his hand and headed to the limo that was idling behind the hearse.

Once his family was seated and belted in their own vehicle, Booth released a deep sigh and smiled slightly as Brennan reached over and took his hand again.

"Are you alright, Booth?"

Nodding, Booth started the car and waited as the line of cars headed for the cemetery filed out of the church parking lot. "Yeah." He took in her dubious gaze. "Really. Compared to what Reggie must be going through…"

"I know. But still…" She squeezed his hand comfortingly.

"Hey. What I told Parker is the truth. I got to get to know Mom again. She got to see me get married to the love of my life, she got to know the kids…I'm grateful for all of that, Bones. Even if I'm sad, I'm grateful."

"Grateful. Yes." Brennan smiled softly and brought their entwined hands to her lips for a moment. "I am familiar with the feeling."


	14. News

_**A/N: Just a quick note to reply to jsboneslover (you didn't log in so I couldn't PM you!), the previous chapter, Stoic, was not set a few years into the future. It is set in current canon and Brennan's current pregnancy. I did not include it in the story, but in my head, Marianne was killed in a car accident. 300 words doesn't leave much room for exposition. Hope that explains it. And**_ _ **thank you for the review!**_

 _ **PS. The 'H' word appears below. Brace yourself. ;)**_

* * *

News

She keyed herself into the hotel room she'd been assigned and threw her duffle and messenger bags onto the standard queen bed, the finer details of the room escaping her notice as she grabbed the remote control from the night stand and flipped on the television. The screen immediately flickered on, catching a news broadcast in the middle of its entertainment report.

"… _Kardashian and West celebrated their engagement as well as the bride-to-be's 33_ _rd_ _birthday with their friends and family. And speaking of weddings, Bred in the Bone author and world-renowned forensic anthropologist Temperance Brennan finally made it official with her FBI partner and rumored inspiration of her popular Andy Lister character by marrying Special Agent Seeley Booth in what was said to be a beautiful ceremony yesterday on the grounds of the Jeffersonian Institute in DC. The bride wore a custom-made Vera Wang gown while the groom wore a Ralph Lauren tailored tuxedo, and as you can see from this official wedding photo, they certainly make a gorgeous couple. The wedding party also included the couple's 18 month-old daughter, Christine and the groom's son, Parker, from a previous relationship. Also in the news…"_

Hannah pushed the 'off' button on the remote as a numbness spread through her chest. Her legs were jelly as she sat, boneless, on the edge of the bed and tried to compose herself.

She had already known. Of course she had known. A popular author like Temperance didn't have a baby without it being news. The short announcement from her publisher on the occasion of little Christine Booth's birth was sparse in information, but had included the relevant particulars. Including the baby's father's name. So Hannah had plenty of time to adjust to the fact that the man she had once loved and the woman who had once been a very good friend had finally gotten their shit together and had become a couple.

But people have babies out of wedlock all the time. And it doesn't necessarily mean anything. And while Hannah had never once entertained the idea of going back to Washington to try and get back together with Seeley, deep inside where she kept her most important secrets, she hid a bit of hope. But this final news, and the accompanying picture showing two people so obviously in love and so completely happy…it had managed to extinguish that last kernel of 'what if' and, unbelievably, set her free. She gratefully found herself happy for both of them and the little family they had forged.

And maybe, she felt a little happy for herself, as well.


	15. Adore

Adore

His footsteps were soft and sure, his movements stealthy as he entered the nursery and picked up the fussing baby girl. Barely twelve hours old, Christine shook her tiny fists and cried into her father's shoulder as he patted her back and turned to bring her to her mother.

Booth entered their bedroom and was greeted by the sight of Brennan sitting up in bed shirtless, waiting for him to bring her their daughter. He carefully handed their precious bundle over and then rounded the foot of the bed to settle in next to them.

For all his perceived prudishness, one of the most beautiful sights Booth had ever seen was Brennan nursing their child. The first time, while they were still sitting on the floor of the hotel's barn waiting for the EMTs to come and check out mother and baby, Christine had latched on like a champ and the look on Brennan's face had stolen her partner's breath. Her forehead was smooth and free from the pained lines that had marred it during labor, her cheeks were flushed and glowing, and that smile…just… _serene_. Yeah. That was the only word Booth could find that gave that smile justice.

He had been so lost in his musings that he was surprised when a tiny burp interrupted his thoughts. Brennan laughed lightly and praised the tiny, sleepy girl before handing her back to her father. She adjusted her shirt and placed a warm palm against his face before he could get up from the bed.

"Thank you, Booth."

He smiled and leaned over quickly to kiss her. "No, Bones. Thank you."


	16. A Close Shave

A Close Shave

Wendell sat down at Doctor Brennan's former desk and considered the paperwork in front of him. The case itself had been straightforward, a man dying of cancer had killed his brother, believing his years of being exposed to the latter's cigarette smoke had brought about his large cell carcinoma. The whole situation had been depressing, with two lives basically over and a set of elderly parents left mourning both of their children.

Sighing heavily, the intern collated the stack of paper in front of him and slid it into a folder, ready to pass on to Agent Aubrey to complete the FBI half of the forms. His melancholy was understandable, any reminder of his close shave with his own illness made him think not only of his late father, but of how things had changed in the two years since his diagnosis. They had lost Sweets, Booth had been wrongfully imprisoned, fell off the gambling wagon and along with Brennan had quit solving murders to work for the NSA. The newest change, the recent birth of Henry Matthew Booth, had been a highlight, but sometimes Wendell couldn't help but dwell on the hard road everyone's current happiness had been forced to travel.

Pulled from his musings by a soft knock on the doorframe, he smiled at Andie and gathered his work to drop off to Cam before heading out for the night. Holding his girlfriend's hand as they exited the lab, Wendell couldn't help but feel that while many big changes had happened lately, they had all brought him to this moment and he couldn't be anything but grateful.


	17. Threat

Threat

Booth looked above his head and rattled the handcuffs that were currently shackling him to the post behind him. He took a cursory look around, vainly trying to find something to jimmy the locks that held him in place. Nothing. Even the tables next to him were devoid of anything but matching lamps. In desperation, he assessed the threat and realized that he was pretty much screwed.

Or, more to the point, he was going to be. If he accepted the terms of his current predicament.

"Bones…" He whined. "Come on. You know how much I hate this."

His captor simply smiled naughtily from her location on her knees at the foot of the bed and shook her head. "I know, Booth. I am well aware of your distaste in not having control of every situation, but you promised."

He sighed heavily and dropped his head backwards onto the pillow below. "Yeah. I know I did."

"So…" Brennan crawled up his body slowly, giving him teasing nips and licks on various body parts as she went, stopping frustratingly between his legs, his traitorous hard on twitching as her breath ghosted over his groin. "Since you promised…"

She took his heartfelt groan as acquiescence and moved away from Ground Zero of their little game to stretch her equally naked body out alongside his. Her long, slender finger reached out and circled one hard, flat nipple and she grinned when his penis again moved in response to her touch. "I appreciate the display of trust you're showing, Booth. I find it…very sexy." She whispered the last word directly into his ear, the moist air from her hot mouth amping up his desire as if she had thrown gasoline onto an open flame.

She moved again to straddle his waist and leaned forward, her generous breasts brushing against his torso. "And as a reward, I am willing to relieve a bit of your…suffering."

Suddenly feeling very, very forgiving as his partner slid down his body to press hot, wet kisses along his thigh, Booth again laid his head back and couldn't suppress a moan as Brennan reached her target. "Oh, Bones…you're the best."


	18. Answer

Answer

Booth turned the kielbasa on the grill and then stirred the small pan of peppers and onions on the side burner, glancing up from his task to watch Brennan saunter towards him. She reached his side and wrapped one arm around his waist, smiling as he flipped her Boca burgers and rotated the veggie skewers that he'd prepared just for her.

"Mmm. That all looks delicious, Booth. Thank you for this."

Booth smiled into the kiss he gave the side of her head and looked around at their busy backyard. Squints, FBI agents and various blood family members milled around, playing corn hole or swimming in the pool or chatting. It was a perfect summer day with the perfect group of people.

"Hey, it was your idea, Bones. I just follow orders." He moved the kielbasa away from a flame-up and turned the gas down a bit. "And it was a great idea. Everyone seems to be having a ball."

Brennan nodded. "Angela said the same thing, although she suggested that you and I would rather be keeping the food away from everyone." Her brow wrinkled in confusion.

"What the hell does that mean?" Booth knew Angela was just this side of odd, but even he couldn't figure out her meaning on this one.

Brennan shook her head. "I do not know." She proceeded to repeat Angela's comment, and the blush of irritation on Booth's cheeks told Brennan that she had, once again, missed something. "What? I don't get it."

"Angela!" Booth bellowed, setting down his tongs and advancing on the now-giggling artist, who tried to hide behind her confused husband.

"Booth!" Brennan cried. "What does it mean?" She watched, exasperated, as her husband chased her best friend around the yard, darting between trees and through the laughing crowd. "Booth! Angela!" He finally caught his prey and carried her, screeching in protest all the way, to the edge of the pool, unceremoniously dropping her into the deep end, fully clothed.

Finally having had enough, an unamused Brennan stood in the middle of the crowded yard and yelled at Booth at the top of her voice. "Someone answer me! What does it mean to hide the sausage?!"

* * *

 _ **Quick A/N: Thanks to my lovely friend Cat for the prompt. 3**_


	19. Whirl

Whirl

"Temperance, I can't tell you how much I appreciate your doing this. I know we didn't part all those years ago on good terms, but…"

Brennan shook her head as she returned the Skype-generated gaze of her former professor and lover. "Michael, that incident was a very long time ago and I an indebted to you for your instruction during my formative years. Without you, I would not have learned the skills to surpass you as an anthropologist."

Stires laughed, nodding. "And now you're even telling jokes. You really have changed, Tempe."

"For the better, I hope."

"Of course. Clearly, being in love and becoming a mother has had great influence on you." He smiled softly, not a trace of jealousy in his voice. "I'm so happy that you're happy."

"Thank you, Michael." Reaching to pick up a stack of papers next to her, Brennan cleared her throat. "Now, about that find you wanted me to consult on…"

~B&B~

Several hours later, Booth opened the front door and called out a greeting, hanging up his coat and toeing off his shoes as he looked around for his family. "Bones?"

Brennan emerged from her office, greeting her husband with a smile and a kiss. "Hi, Booth. How did all the paperwork for the Steinman case go? Do you need any more help?"

"Nah. I finished it all, with Aubrey's help. The weekend is free and clear of work, for me anyway." He reached into the fridge and grabbed a beer, twisting the top off with a contented sigh. "How long do you think you'll need to help Stires out on his Mesopotamian goddess?"

Noticing his relaxed position and light smile, Brennan moved to wrap her arms around Booth's waist and hugged him tightly. "You're a good man, Booth."

Confused, Booth set his bottle down and returned his wife's sudden embrace. "Thanks, Bones. But…what's this about?"

She leaned back a little so she could see his face. "Michael." Booth's furrowed brow made her continue. "Most men would not be comfortable with their wife working with a former lover. But you didn't even hesitate."

"I trust you, Bones. And based on everything you've told me about him, Stires' conduct in that courtroom was out of character for him." He kissed her softly, unable to resist. "And he never consulted on another case like that again, I think that speaks to how badly he felt about what he did to you."

"You're right. But I still appreciate your acquiescence."

"Hey, you're the one who was still willing to give this whole thing a whirl even after he did you wrong. Besides…we work with Cam, right? If you can compartmentalize that, I can manage to ignore good ol' Mikey Stires for a weekend."

Brennan laughed. "True! I hadn't thought of your former relationship with Cam in years." She leaned up to give him her own irresistible kiss. "We are a very enlightened and understanding couple."

"We really are."


	20. Slave

Slave

Brennan wanted to get everything just right, so she consulted her list and checked the turkey, making sure that it was basted properly and browning as expected. She could hear Booth and Christine in the living room, cheering on the Eagles as they decimated the Detroit Lions. The table was set with the china Cam and Michelle had bought for them when they had married, the beautiful layout waiting for the copious dishes of food Brennan was currently slaving to complete by the time their guests arrived.

A loud, enthusiastic cheer from the other room made her smile as she whipped the potatoes and checked on the gravy. Brennan herself may not enjoy watching their sports contests, but Christine had inherited her father's love of games and the girl had used her mother's love of learning to absorb everything she could about the rules of American football, as Parker called it. Almost immediately following the racket precipitated by the Eagles' last touchdown, a hearty cry emanated from the baby monitor, signaling the fact that little Henry had either had enough sleep, or was roused by the noisy excitement of his father and big sister. Booth jumped up and called to his wife, offering to get his son to save her from going off her precise cooking schedule.

Gratefully, Brennan turned back to her tasks, placing the rolls on a baking sheet and checking the green bean casserole Booth had insisted was a staple of Thanksgiving. While she moved efficiently through the kitchen, her thoughts wandered to holidays past. Days where she was alone, absorbed in the bones on her table or under the soil, hiding from the loneliness she refused to acknowledge aloud. Readying their home and dinner table for family gatherings such as this always made her both melancholy and content. She was grateful to have this family she and Booth had built, but she mourned the years she had wasted in denial and fear, years they could have spent together, happy.

With that thought in mind, she carefully set down her paring knife and moved to stand in the doorway that separated the kitchen from the living room. Booth and Christine sat on the sectional together, watching the football game while Booth explained the finer points of the game to Henry, who was simply content to listen to his father's rich baritone and his sister's higher-pitched interjections. She would never have admitted it in the past, but she could feel the love emanating from the trio on the sofa and she closed her eyes in contentment as it flowed over and surrounded her, like a warm, safe blanket.

Booth had once told her that love was worth every bit of pain that you experienced, because in the end the love made you whole, and healed you in a way that nothing else could ever do. Thinking back on their long journey to get to their own love and happiness, Brennan admitted to herself that as in most matters of the heart, her partner in all things was absolutely right.


	21. Lick

Lick

Brennan's hand paused as she raised her spoon to her mouth, watching as the attractive woman across the restaurant watched her husband with ill-disguised interest, even going so far as to actually lick her lips with want. Finishing her bite of food, Brennan listened to Booth as he raved about his steak, the joy he took from simple things like a good cut of meat prepared well making her smile.

"Is your fish good, Bones? It smells great from here." Booth gestured to her plate with his fork.

Nodding, Brennan finished her bite and swallowed before answering. "It's wonderful, actually." She reached for her wine glass before continuing. "You should know, there is a very beautiful woman to your far right who has been staring at you lustfully."

Almost choking on his steak, Booth's eyes widened comically. "Bones!" He tried to look to the side stealthily, but only succeeded in making his wife laugh. "Booth, you're being ridiculous!"

"Hey, I am not! You tell me some other woman is ogling me as casually as letting me know I have something on my shirt and you expect me not to react?" He wiped his mouth with his napkin and tried to calm down. The amusement still twinkling in his wife's eyes was making that very hard at the moment.

"I'm sorry, Booth. I-" She stopped as she realized that they were no longer alone. To Booth's complete horror, standing next to their table was the woman they had just been discussing.

"I am sorry to interrupt." Her voice was smooth and just as honeyed as her flowing locks. Booth cleared his throat and prepared to set the woman straight when she reached down and took Brennan's hand. "I just wanted to tell you that I think you are one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen. I haven't been able to take my eyes off of you all evening." She rubbed her thumb along Brennan's wedding band. "And if you were not already spoken for, I would love to have had the opportunity to show you just how beautiful I think you are."

Brennan smiled. "Thank you…?"

"Ariella."

"Ariella. I am Temperance, and this is my husband, Seeley." Booth was too gobsmacked to do anything but nod at the other woman.

"Temperance." Brennan's name rolled off Ariella's tongue like a beautiful foreign language and Booth was pulled from his shock when he realized that his usually very self-assured wife was blushing. "What a perfectly beautiful name." She glanced at Booth and carefully placed Brennan's hand back on the table top. "Seeley, you are a very lucky man. I hope that you are aware of that."

Nodding, Booth leaned forward and replied with eyes reserved only for his wife. "Oh yeah. I am fully aware of how lucky I am." He spared the stranger a quick look. "In ways you will never know or understand."

Ariella smiled brightly and patted Booth on the shoulder. "That is very good to know. Ciao, Temperance. Seeley." And with a confident toss of her hair, she left as quickly and quietly as she had appeared.

Booth almost laughed as Brennan watched the other woman cross the restaurant and return to her own table and friends. "Bones, did that just happen?"

Brennan tore her attention away from Ariella and her companions, blushing again at having been caught staring. "I'm sorry, Booth. That was just…"

Amused that Temperance Brennan was at a rare loss for words, Booth grinned and reached for the same hand his fellow admirer had held. "Yeah. It was. That is definitely a story for guys' night out."

"Booth!"


	22. Fanatic

Fanatic

Booth slid scrambled eggs onto Christine's plate and added toast and some fruit, smiling as he watched the girl having a conversation with her stuffed bunny. Most of it made no sense, but what did was hilarious and Booth had a hard time not outright laughing.

When Brennan finally entered the kitchen, that urge to laugh was squelched immediately. She looked exhausted and miserable. "Bones? You okay?" He moved to kiss her, surprised when she aggressively fisted his t-shirt in one hand and pulled his head down for what could only be described as a passionate kiss with the other.

They parted, both a little breathless, and Booth was shocked to see tears in her eyes. "Christine, eat your breakfast. Mommy and I will be right back." He gently pulled Brennan into the living room and down next to him on the sofa. She leaned her forehead into his chest, and began sobbing.

"Bones, sweetheart…what's wrong?" She shook her head against his chest, a gesture he took to mean she wasn't ready to speak just yet. Instead of pressing, he held her close and let her cry it out. Eventually, the tears stopped and she looked up from her hiding place with red eyes and a blush on her cheeks.

"It's the hormones, Booth." She sniffed. "I feel ridiculous. It was seven years ago, and-"

"Whoa, wait a minute… _what_ was seven years ago?"

Brennan reached over and grabbed a tissue from the coffee table. "Seven years ago, that fanatic who thought she was in love with you tried to kill me…and _you_ died instead."

Flashes of long-forgotten memories flashed through Booth's mind, not the least of which was the punch Bones had leveled him with when she found out he wasn't actually dead. He clutched his chin and wiggled it back and forth, a rueful smile on his face. "Yeah. I remember. I think I still feel that beating you gave me, too."

She tried to give him a quelling look but failed miserably, a small laugh escaping her. "You deserved that punch."

"I did indeed." Booth agreed, pulling her tightly against him. Rubbing her back slowly, he gave her the only reassurance he could. "I'm so sorry. That will never, ever happen again, Bones."

She nodded into his shoulder. "I know."


End file.
